A three month old, really immaculate VN750 fell into my hands at a price I couldn't turn down. I'd been wandering around the grey importers looking for a steal but it was the same old story. Overpriced relics from the seventies in the form of Yank cruisers that would throw you off at the first sign of an English back road. Or race replica imports from Japan that were too silly to contemplate. The VN came along just as I becoming desperate, but I didn't let on to the guy who was selling.
The VN's a relatively rare cycle in the UK. An 749cc vee twin but as complex as such a device can get - watercooled, four valves, DOHC's, shaft drive...at least the valves were hydraulically adjusted (as per Harley) and the mill knocked out a reasonable 65 horses - any more power in a custom's damned dangerous. The power delivery's somewhat muted by the fact that the Kawasaki weighs close to 500lbs, an outrageous excess for a 750cc vee twin but pretty normal for this kind of custom.
Styling's everything with this type of machine. The VN has a nice chunky engine that looks butch and defines its general outline but the airfilter's a mess, the seat looks rather odd (couldn't they have copied Corbin's excellent stuff?) and some of the detailing's poor. From a reasonable distance the Vulcan impresses, though the name does cause nerds to come up through cracks in the pavement to sprout Star Trek jokes, but close up it begins to fall apart.
The rider's view is reassuring but the laid back riding position, with the pegs so far forward I felt I was on a reclining armchair, takes some time before it becomes natural. Comfort's okay up to about 60mph. 80mph's possible for very short periods and putting the ton on the clock is close to purgatory - the wind blast was so strong that I had visions of being whipped out of the seat and hanging on for dear life with my whole body parallel to the machine.
With its weight and oddly shaped bars I had trouble posing in town, though the overall feel's well balanced and I could rumble down to 5mph with both feet still up on the pegs. It was, however, dead easy to make the bike whip over on its side when trying to navigate tiny gaps between cars. The length of the thing didn't help, either, though it undoubtedly aided stability on motorways and the like.
One curious moment was when I found myself amidst a pack of Harleys, all ridden by hard men in cut-off denims and identical beards with old slags on the pillions. I shocked them by accelerating away - the VN does have a grunty engine with scads of torque - and wobbling through a series of bends with sparks flying from the exhaust, the fifteen inch back wheel trying to skid off the road. The Dunlop tyres were made from a particularly hard compound that showed as little sign of wear as grip!
I rode as fast as I ever had on the Vulcan for the next five miles until I was assured that the 'Hells Angels' weren't going to catch up with me. I was impressed that I'd managed to burn off those stonking great 1340cc monster bikes, though they'd all gone the low rider route and had insufficient ground clearance to avoid being decimated by raised manhole covers.
One strange aspect of the VN was that it made an awful lot of mechanical noise, especially when warming up, yet was smooth - Kawasaki had combined rubber engine mounts with a balance shaft. The exhaust had the same kind of soul stirring note as a big Harley (it came with non-standard slash pipes), although it never made the earth shake the way a big Harley managed (there, that should stop them stringing up all VN owners after I said they sounded similar).
The exhaust note, and the beat of the engine, are all important on a custom as they are supposed to be ridden in a laid back manner - ie slowly. Here the Vulcan wasn't quite right. Where most Harleys feel dead on at 60mph (in fact, they feel as if they are falling apart if you try to go much faster), the VN felt a touch impatient. The motor seemed to run best, most naturally, at 70 to 80mph, which strained my whole body with the way the riding position conjured up a howling gale. I certainly had a good work out in exchange for avoiding being run down on the motorway.
Different gearing would've been the answer. Yeah, dead easy, just tear off the shaft drive, fit a sprocket on the gearbox's output shaft and bung in a new back wheel. I don't think so! The shaft was pleasant enough, with minor miles on the clock the UJ's hadn't had a chance to wear and all the spines still had plenty of grease on them. There was insufficient ground clearance (and a lack of suicidal instincts) to really test the final drive in extremis but I had no nasty moments, even on some vilely wet, slippery road. The total lack of maintenance was nice.
I'm not so effusive about the gearbox. It was by no means bad yet was a tad unpredictable. Some days it was as slick as a Thai masseur, others' there was some crunchiness and the need to take particular care on the throttle. Though it might appear, at times, agricultural it never actually missed a change. Maybe a good bargaining point when buying a used one, but nothing to cause sleepless nights.
The twin discs out front proved shockingly powerful when used in anger, but once I was used to the lack of pressure they needed, performed so well that the forks could be made to leap about in the headraces - may just've been the legs flexing! Remember when chop builders thought it was neat to use a tiny drum front brake right out of a moped? Dangerous days. The rear brake was a drum but as I hardly used it I can't really comment on its ability, though it made the back end look much cleaner and neater - mightily important on a custom.
Suspension wasn't total mush and seemed to complement the comatose-inducing riding position. It would be easy enough to get it seriously crossed up but that's not the point - the comfort it affords is much more important than any proficiency it might lack as a back road hustler. Don't blame Kawasaki for this, Harley Davidson has defined the criteria by which customs are judged and manufacturers who ignore such constraints don't sell many bikes - the market rules!
Given the slowness of the pace, economy was poor - 40 to 50mpg (worse than an 883 HD) - but the three gallon petrol tank was quite generous, gave more than enough range. By then I was all for a quick stretch of my legs. At petrol stations some cager would often come up to me and express admiration for the glossy lines of the Vulcan. A hit with the car world, then, or maybe I just looked a lot less threatening than your average Harley rider.
In six months I did 4500 miles. Didn't touch the engine, didn't even have to put any in oil, The clock read 8300 miles when one of the aforementioned cagers decided he just had to have it. I walked away with a grand's profit. Probably, the greatest thing against the VN's that it's similarly priced to an 883 Sportster, which possesses all the street credibility. It obviously doesn't have the same technological advances as the Vulcan's engine, but then in a cycle which is designed for cruising rather than speed, who needs them? The vintage feel of the Harley's all part of its charm but the VN's more civilized.
Ed Jacks